Across the Line
by funnyhappyday
Summary: At a young age, he was blessed with a vast, and dangerous Flame. When brought to light, no-one is able to hide this destructive power away. Unfortunately, they couldn't have made a graver mistake. / EDIT: New Summ. AU. Rating May Rise.
1. Prologue: A Vast Sky

Title: Across the Line

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not **own** Katekyo Hitman Reborn in any way or form, whatsoever.

**Prologue: A Vast Sky**

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He couldn't see the man's eyes. They were hidden by not only his rimmed, straw sunhat but an incredible, _really_ bright light. It was seemingly blinding, yet he could see it perfectly, jumping around the entire body in joy. The small boy had seen this many times before, but never in this colour; _never_ this beautiful. He smiled slightly, letting his eyes follow the orange Flames as they flipped and turned in and around the elderly arms. He couldn't help it: the sight was stunning.

So captivated in his thoughts, the young boy failed to notice anything.

He didn't notice the man's elongated finger pressed against his brow.

He didn't even begin to notice another, much smaller flame embedded at the end of it—dancing almost in pain as compared to the others.

He didn't even flinch when that light began dimming as it tried to pull away from him, terrified.

Nor did he register the flame around himself, cushioning his own body in light warmth. Undying warmth.

Of course, the trembling scowl across the older man's face was proof enough that every little detail the child refused to regard would change his life.

For better, or for worse; only time would tell.

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**Authors note**: So begins the journey! I'm actually very happy to finally start posting this. Updates will sadly be slow. I have a habit of starting one thing and then moving onto the next before I finish the first so there will be - and already are - a few chapters being drafted at once. Apologies, in that regard. Though I have every intention to update as often as I can.

This is actually a slight collaboration between my very close friend, endlesslifex - also known as Alice - and I. She has been an absolute star in assisting me both in proofreading and plot-development, among many other things. I really don't know what I'd do without her.

Next Chapter: **Broken Bliss**


	2. Chapter 1: Broken Bliss

_**Mistero**_

_One swing, and the next. His Flames would move with his body in a fluid __oscillation. So crisp. So clear. However, all his answers still lacked in their honesty. He would throw so hard, but wasn't sure he would ever find the crystal truth behind the mystery._

**Chapter 1: Broken Bliss**

Sawada Iemitsu was shaking. His chair thumped the floor harshly as its user's body moved uncontrollably, gaining worried glances from across the room. His wife, Nana, felt almost as nervous, but she had convinced herself that looking panicked would only make the situation worse. So, being the gentle soul she was, she steadily placed a cup of darkened coffee on the old, rusty tray. She gripped the cold sides elegantly as she glided over to her husband, who was looking out of the window with a stricken face. Nana frowned, knowing that her words probably wouldn't help.

"Dear," she started, failing to gain his undivided attention, "I didn't understand much of what you said but…" She trailed off, slowly putting the beverage onto the kitchen table, without gaining a glance from Iemitsu. His face was still diagonal from the window, stolid and unreadable. She noticed his eyes squinting slightly, as if trying to focus in on a grain of sand in the distance. Nana turned around in hidden frustration, still not believing much of what she had been told. It all seemed too out-of-the-hat and quite honestly, despite her mind screaming that it was the truth—unbelievable. She sighed, letting her mind distract itself. Unconsciously, her figure began drifting out of the kitchen and towards the staircase.

_I really should check on him…_

She gasped as her wrist was suddenly gripped, pulling her back a few steps. The grip wasn't too tight, but firm and unrelenting nonetheless. Her head reeled around in panic, only to calm and stiffen with defeat. Iemitsu stared at her for a moment, squeezing the joint lightly. Nana didn't let her gaze leave his, only stared into his tired eyes. They stood there for what seemed like hours, his hand never leaving hers as if he knew that she would attempt to flee when faced with this harsh aphorism. He had dealt her a difficult hand and he understood the fight or flight instinct well. Her stare began to bore into him, but Nana wasn't about to cease. He attempted to break off the contact, but her vision followed as he leaned in close, placing his parched lips close to her ear.

"Please, take what I said to heart," he whispered delicately, still managing to keep Nana in his grasp.

It was then, at that moment, when Sawada Nana decided that her husband wasn't a liar.

_Sawada Iemitsu stood firmly in front of his old home, the place he had come back to every day, until exactly one year ago; after a visit from his boss; things changed. Iemitsu was rooted to the spot, refusing to enter... his wife figured as much. He'd never want to leave._

_As Nana opened her mouth, the blond raised his voice, quickly cutting her off. "Nana, I'm afraid this can't wait much longer, I have so much to tell you." Iemitsu began, sounding very hoarse: as if he hadn't slept for days. Both their mouths shut slowly, a silent agreement for him to talk and her to listen. _

_With that, she knew she wouldn't like it._

"_I'm afraid that I've been keeping a secret, no—a life, a different life, hidden from you, for a very long time." He stalled, glancing quickly to catch her expression. If he had been faster, he would have caught the ever so brief look of dismay splash across her face, before briskly being replaced with another wondrous smile - but he wasn't. Inwardly cursing, he pushed his doubts aside._

"_Even before we were married, I was part of an organization – a crime organization; organized crime, to be exact." _

"_I always wanted a normal family. That was __**all**__I ever wanted. People say that it is almost impossible in the Mafia, but I had hope! You! You gave me that hope… so I decided." There was another pause as Iemitsu grasped at the binder in front of him. "The kindergarten tuition, mortgage, food, clothes, everything—it's all well taken care of." He tried to emphasize the only thing Nana could possibly find positive but she was too busy taking in everything else to register it. The… __**mafia?**_

"_Iemitsu…" She murmured, not telling him to stop nor ushering him to continue. He wondered if and when she would decide that she'd heard enough, but her eyes were simply hidden by her just-long-enough bangs, staring intently at the ground. Of course, he knew better. He knew she was listening. Balled fists shook._

"_Nana, the reason I'm telling you all this is even harder to accept. I'm not telling you this so that you can imagine all the terrible things I might have done; all the possible reasons I could never be a proper husband or father, or all the excuses I could exclaim for where I've been this past year." _

_His face was as lifeless as his voice. In a way, it was scary. In another, it left Nana with a ting of awe in her mind. He kept this entire secret? For so long?_

"_There is only one thing, and one thing only that I can tell you about what I've been doing for the last three-hundred-sixty-five days."_

_Nana finally looked up, now steadily shaking under the weight of the lie, and under how many times her intuition had softly spoke the very same words._ _A small flicker of pain travelled from her brain to her heart and it rested there, leaving a weight that hadn't been present before. But, she suppressed it and passed it off as a sudden twitch. "Oh..." She wasn't mad at her husband. Not at all. However, nothing could prepare her for his next words._

"_Tsuna's life...is in danger."_

_Her smile stayed plastered on her visage all the while. The small twitch in her happy life escalated to a crack, and soon all Iemitsu could see was just how fake her smile had become._

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_Vongola: once a vigilante group, now a host of numerous crimes and the lords of said offences alike. The Boss of this infamous group sat alone that evening, ignoring his richly defined coffee as it was left to seep away its warmth, slowly assuming the same sharp, bitter cold as the night. Yes, this evening, Timoteo lingered within his temporary office, at a time where even he, the Godfather, should be trying to enjoy an hour or two of sleep. Not that residing in a hotel for the past week helped, but the fact still remained that he had a job to do. Slowly but surely, nerves were eating away at him. Despite being trained day and night in the ways of avoiding attachments for most of his life, the elderly man now felt quite bitter in his own company. He had failed a simple act. He failed to protect something so small, so innocent, only because that something was so much stronger.

He pressed his palm against the desk sourly, hoping for it to turn to ashes in front of him. But he was getting old. Instead, he picked up the shiny, black phone and pressed one, simple button. A moment passed before a voice hastily answered.

"Y-yes, Ninth?" The voice stuttered irritably, only making Timoteo more edged.

He didn't hold his breath. "Has any word returned from our vehicle?" he asked, lingering on the last few words, breathing a hint. The woman on the other side seemed to catch on—she was an undercover agent, after all; even if a bad one.

"N-no, sir. T-they haven't e-entered the grounds y-yet, Ninth." She was practically panting. The elderly man felt his eyes droop in frustration. Who hired this woman?

"Okay, thank you. Have a nice evening." He held back a strained chuckle. Oh, the irony of the last line. Working in the Mafia hardly ever had its props.

He couldn't help but feel his limitations as he moved around the room, sorely noting that despite his previous strength, he was already exposed to early worry lines and a weak heart. Yes, he was quick to be bitter in a profession that had demanded everything of him; however, they had to make it. The entirety of Vongola rested upon it and Timoteo didn't want to lose anyone else. The sound of rattling vibrations shook him from his trance. Quickly moving over to the table, he grabbed the small, mobile phone and read the message thoroughly. It was short, but he didn't want to miss anything between the lines. When he was done, he couldn't help but feel even a little more relieved, feeling the worry eke out of his tense bones.

'_One mile and counting.'_

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_

Tears were insistent at his eyes, brushing his lower eyelashes in a fearsome fight for control. He couldn't help it, and he was definitely trying. As he carefully watched the scene unfold from the top of the staircase, he felt everything around him fall into confusion. Sawada 'Tsuna' Tsunayoshi couldn't understand the odd behaviour, the physical contact, or the hidden secret lingering between his two precious people. It scared him—quite a lot. But it didn't scare him as much as the feeling he was getting, a feeling deep within him. His bright, caramel eyes had been open for about half an hour, bright and attentive. However, he had felt like his body was still in a nightmare. Somewhere above the ceiling of their safe haven something was moving, and it was livid.

Tsuna felt compelled. He wanted nothing more than to run into the warm arms of his mother and forget the encroaching feeling of a monster behind his back. But when he came out of his now alien, nearly inhospitable bedroom, he heard a loud gasp, an unfamiliar, and yet nostalgic sound. It was a sharp, unprecedented sound, and yet he felt he knew its source. And he did. The poor boy could only feel more alarmed as he watched in panic. His father was grasping the wrist of his wife, Tsuna's beloved mother. He was holding her back without needing to expend much effort, as she was stock still, staring into the wide orbs that belonged to her lover. The man had been missing for a year with no word at all and, as Tsuna had noticed, seemed different. All of it was enough to make him scream, but a wistful tug at back of his mind told him not to. He simply stood rooted to the spot, clinging to the stair post like his life depended on it—still fighting his lifeless tears.

The sound of the floor creaking unevenly above him knocked him out of his scrutiny. He pushed himself to the side with a small gasp, trying to stay out of eyes view from the windows. Iemitsu was now making his way up the stairs, pausing cautiously with every step. The small brunet knew he was scared of the world at the moment, but the feeling was insistent, refusing to go away.

_Something was up there_.

Iemitsu paused for a final time, feeling an all too familiar presence. He sighed tiredly, but Tsuna couldn't help but notice that he sounded... relieved. His large eyes fell on the tall blond before he finally stepped into the moonlight, not entirely sure what possessed him to do so.

Fatherly eyes gaped at the small form. "Tsuna?" he asked, still acting strangely. Tsuna nodded before letting out a quiet sob, looking away from his parent, not sure what to be more afraid of. Iemitsu seemed nothing but stunned by the reaction. "What happened?" he yelled, shocking Tsuna into falling over rashly.

Tsuna cried piercingly, harmonizing with the ungracious _bang_ his landing made. Nothing was there to cushion his fall, no matter how slight a fall it seemed.

The older man instantly withdrew, taking an unconscious step backwards as he looked down at his bawling son. The boy was never one for bravery. He was shy, sensitive, and found even the depth of his bath water frightening. It couldn't be helped, much. Iemitsu knew what was held behind the small frame of his son, shadowed by a curtain that only a hint of anger could unveil.

Eventually, Tsuna calmed down, sitting up for a moment before staring at the man before him. As if by instinct, the child pushed off the ground with his slightly shaking arms and rushed over to his father, embracing him lightly but refusing to let go—as if he had forgotten the scene he'd witnessed only moments ago.

"Tsuna..." Iemitsu cooed, placing his own hand on the bush of brunet hair. "I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean to scare you like that."

Tsuna made no sign that he heard him. The young boy felt safe in his father's arms, yet he still couldn't escape the feeling. It was still up there...

"Papa?" he asked, not noticing how much delicate his voice sounded. Nor did he notice how tightly his fists were intertwining with the larger torso.

Iemitsu was listening intently, so much so that Tsuna felt uneasy. His father loved him, he knew, but he had not paid so much attention to him in the past year. "Mhm?" he inquired wordlessly.

Tsuna was scared to answer. He was afraid of knowing just what was up there, or even discovering _why_ he instinctively knew. But when the voice usually instructing him didn't reject the idea, he opened his mouth.

"There's something on the roof."

The moment he announced his thoughts out loud, the world around him seemed to spin. He wasn't sure which came first, the sobs of his father or the squeezing of his own body, which was intensely stiffer than before. Iemitsu was shaking awfully hard, pushing his arms around Tsuna in a tightened lock. Tsuna didn't know what to make of it, his mind was slipping too fast for him to properly grasp his thoughts, and the only thing he could fully realise made him too frozen to move.

His father was purposely doing this.

"P-papa...!" The brunet squirmed, trying to get out of the grip in a frenzy of gasps. He could feel his small legs dropping out from under him, slowly but surely making their way to the ground. If it wasn't for the larger frame holding him up, he would have kissed the carpet already. He looked to the doorframes in hopes of escape, but couldn't make them out anymore. Everything was just a blurred mix of falling tears and rapid lack of consciousness. "Papa..." he murmured once more, letting the feeling of betrayal sink to the bottom of his confused mind. For a moment, Tsuna was shaken by a strange feeling, an intrusive, unfamiliar emotion that infiltrated him. Iemitsu's palms stayed rooted against Tsuna's back, glowing slightly in the brisk moonlight. Tsuna began to fight back; his Flames moving rapidly through his frame, trying to find an exit before he could slip away entirely.

But Iemitsu was faster.

There was a short-lived gasp and Tsuna's moist eyes finally closed; his body falling limp with tired breaths flowing unevenly in and out of it. Iemitsu was still holding him, but not as tight. Instead, he let his own tears fall on the unconscious face of his son. He knew he had to do it. He knew all too well that hurting his son was the only way to not only to protect Tsuna, but to protect everyone around him, and he _loathed_ it.

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The skittering above them was obvious, yet cautious. Now that Iemitsu was holding Tsuna in his firm grip, the noise would follow him. He moved, and it was follow almost too quickly. It was to be expected. Nevertheless, he knew he had to leave. The blond was still in momentary shock from completing the Ninth's orders. He'd injected Tsuna with Flames that weren't his own - knocked him out with them, to say the least. He knew Tsuna would be terrified of him now; if he ever saw the brunet again, that is.

When Iemitsu reappeared at the foot of the stairs, gracefully holding the petite body in the hook of his arm, Nana could only stare. It took a few moments for her to slowly move out of the way to let her husband past, but paid no mind to him. Tsuna's face was contorted; similar to the nights she helped him through his many nightmares of fire, white haired men, and a strange voice; crying.

"Tsuna's a little bit tired, Nana." Iemitsu stated, now standing horizontal from her but relaying his eyes to the door. "I'm going to need you to stay here."

Nana felt her eyes bulge. He wanted her to stay? Where was he going, in the first place? Her body reacted impulsively, taking a quick dash to the front door and standing defiantly in front of it. The shocking part was that the concern plastered all over her face didn't faze. She wasn't angry, she was _scared._

"Nana-"

"No!" She yelled, not noticing how much her body trembled.

Iemitsu could feel his patience growing weak. He loved Nana, and had tried to explain-

The soft, ever so quiet sound of a car stopping zapped the blond straight. This was it. The guards the Ninth had sent—the intruders above the roof, Tsuna. It all came down to Nana. Iemitsu didn't want to hurt her; he'd done that enough for one day. When she didn't falter under his gaze, he decided to move forward.

Nana visibly paled. "Y-you can't just- What about Tsu-kun? His life is here, Iemitsu!"

He lightly gasped at then use of his real name. Nana was terrified. She wasn't of the Vongola Blood but held a strong intuition of her own either way. "I know that," He started, desperately clutching Tsuna's sleeping form to keep his voice from cracking, "and that is why I have to do everything I can to save it!"

Everything stopped. Nana didn't notice her arms drop. She didn't feel the ground hit as her legs crumbled under the weight, folding neatly under her shocked figure. Iemitsu stared guilty, but felt slight shock seep through his façade as Nana began to move, almost zombie like.

Nana didn't know why she stretched out for the umbrella stand, holding the orange hook shakily before passing it to Iemitsu. Awaiting his outstretched hand, she put on a smile. Nana wasn't sure why she was doing this. It wasn't even raining.

She had to leave them something. A part of her, letting them know she... always wanted to be with them, regardless. If she didn't she would be afraid that Tsuna...Iemitsu. They would never know.

Wordlessly, he took a hold of the handle pushed towards him. His fingers brushed lightly against hers but he didn't fit it. Letting his grip remain still for a moment, he looked at Nana's face—her stoic and somehow smiling deceptive face—before wordlessly nodding and pulling the umbrella towards his chest.

Moving past her, Iemitsu let his feet drag; prolonging his stay. He knew it would be safer for her there, but that didn't help the separation. He longed for her. Her touch, her honest happiness, the way she made being in the Mafia and having a 'family' real – even if only for a short while. His fingers curved around the door handle and with a soft pull, it clicked out of place.

From there on, all hell broke loose.

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**Authors note**: For some reason, I choked up at the bridge of this chapter. It has been such a long time since I attempted to write anything, let alone post it. Nerves are so tedious sometimes. On another note, college is a pain, almost obligated to take any free time it can find and turn it into mush. Fortunately, I was able to find the time to run over this project briefly – Alice and I now have what we could call a plot. Sort of~ :P

Thank you: endlesslifex, hopeh-wa, Reidluver, Peace of the Moon, and LilyMoonstone for Reviewing and Alerting.

**Small Beta's Note: **As reluctant as I was to leave a note of my own here, I have relented only to say this: This story will be epic with this author holding the pen. (Metaphorically of course, for these days your fingers stroke now across keys and Microsoft Word has become the modern canvas.)

As arrogant as I sound, you won't be disappointed to stick around with us for the ride.

Love, Alice.

Next Chapter: **Cold, Stone Eyes.**


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